


Beautiful Disaster

by writingramblr



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Forced Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Introspection, Prequel, Slight Divergence, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 08:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5284565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Becoming the Capitol's darling wasn't something that happened easily. Sure it was an overnight event, but the road was long and hard and Finnick Odair's gleam is beginning to tarnish.</p>
<p>By the time he meets the girl on fire, his own inner flame barely burns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Disaster

**Author's Note:**

> this was written before seeing Mockingjay Part 2, and honestly i'm not sure i can make it through watching Finnick die without some serious tears.  
> this incorporates part of an RP i did with an incredible Finnick who is no longer on tumblr but i can provide links if requested.
> 
> i also killed off Finnick's family, because i couldn't remember if there was ever anyone mentioned and THG wiki didn't help at all.

Words had been thrown at Finnick Odair all of his life.

When he was young, it was ‘Career.’

As he grew older, it was ‘Prepare.’

The day of the reaping it was ‘Chosen.’

Although he was only a fresh faced and wide eyed fourteen year old boy, the entire capitol and his family knew he was destined for great things.

Winning the Hunger Games was just the beginning of his greatness, but it was the end of his innocence and youth.

Oh he was still the youngest Victor, but there was another price to be paid, not in blood, but in life in a way.

Finnick had barely washed away the sweat and dirt of the arena when he was approached by a woman in a bright pink suit and told the President wished to speak with him.

All he’d been expecting was a bit of talking to reporters and then he imagined he’d be handed his winnings and sent away, but this? This was something out of a twisted dream, or a nightmare.

 

The man himself was taller than Finnick, as he was, and reeked of sweet perfume, evidently coming from the white rose in his front pocket.

He wasn’t sure what to do in the presence of such power, so he nodded his head, in a small bow.

“Mister Odair, it is a pleasure to meet you. Please, sit. No need to be so formal. You’ve just won the Games. It is I who should be bowing to you.”

The smile that was forming over the president’s puffy lips was anything but sincere, and Finnick took heed of a warning that had been whispered once, long ago in secret, the first words he could remember that weren’t telling him what to do, or think, “Trust no one with power, for they will do anything to keep it.”

“Well, thank you sir. It’s an honor. May I ask why you wanted to see me?”

President Snow nodded,

“Of course. Now that you are seen and known as a Victor, you will have a prized and wealthy life. I’m sure you’ve wondered exactly what you will need to do to pass the time now, well, wonder no more. You’re much beloved throughout the Capitol. You are very young, the youngest Victor we’ve ever had, in fact, although that does present a bit of a problem.”

Finnick frowned, confused and bewildered.

“I’m sorry? Does my age not speak volumes to the districts? That anyone could win, if they have the strength and motivation?”

Snow chuckled darkly, and Finnick wondered just what he’d been thinking, speaking freely.

He hadn’t won with strength, he’d been gifted.

The most expensive gift in the history of the Hunger Games in fact.

He wondered if he would be allowed to keep the weapon that had helped him.

It would be cleaned by now, surely.

For a moment, he lost himself in the memory of the final death, before the thundering boom of the cannon, and he realized Snow had spoken.

“I apologize.”

“Certainly. I’m sure you have many intriguing moments to relive, but Mister Odair, it will be your responsibility to entertain some of the most esteemed in the Capitol, and indeed, it will be their pleasure to associate with our most recent Victor.”

Finnick remained silent, awaiting clarification.

Was he being asked to attend parties and socialize with elite?

Not such a horrible thought.

He did want to return home and reunite with his family, but that could wait.

“That sounds very nice, I’d be delighted.”

Snow nodded,

“Excellent. I’m very glad to hear that. In a few months, when you’re ready, you can take the full responsibility on.”

“What is that?”

President Snow stood up, prompting Finnick to do the same,

“Entertaining over night and granting their any whim. You’ll be handsomely compensated of course. Being the Capitol Darling has its rewards. With your beauty and skills, I think you could be very popular.”

Finnick felt his blood chill, as if he’d fallen into the northern seas.

“What?”

Snow’s smile was no longer friendly or even pretending to be anything but threatening,

“If you refuse, your family will shrink. Do you understand me?”

Finnick found himself nodding, growing numb with every second that passed.

He wasn’t too young to grasp exactly what was being asked of him.

The fact that the President himself was prepared to outright harm his family was incredibly disturbing.

Never mind the fact he would be performing, like a trained animal, to socialize, or worse, with anyone and everyone who desired his company.

The room began to spin as soon as the door had shut behind the President, and when Finnick found himself face down on the carpet, he wasn’t surprised.

Finding the will to get up was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

*

Five years passed.

Finnick Odair’s life was now a precise schedule of several things that never changed.

Sleep, immaculately planned exercise regimens, fine tuned diets, and many many appointments.

Whether to parties, or to individual’s homes.

Finnick Odair never had a night off.

He’d also learned many things.

Each mistake had cost him dearly.

The only good thing was that his family had always been small, and it was infinitely smaller now.

In fact, he had no living blood relations any more.

His only family was on a technicality.

An elderly woman who’d been his mentor throughout his training for the Games.

His hands began to shake as he relived the last phone call he’d had from her.

She’d told him what he needed to hear, but it didn’t matter.

He was already planning ways out.

He clenched the handle of the counter until his knuckles turned white.

The mirror was framed by lights, to better illuminate his handsome face, and ensure his hair was styled to perfect by his assistants who fluttered about like giant moths.

His Prep team had been delighted to hear they would be kept on, and put up in the lavish Capitol apartment building he lived in.

He didn’t feel very alive most days.

Everything felt like simply going through motions that he knew like breathing.

Wake up, work out, eat, be dressed, go to a party, or go to the door and greet his ‘date’ for the evening.

He’d been asked to mentor in the last two games he’d witnessed, and the only thing he’d said before smirking his nearly patented grin was the last word he’d been told by his mother, ‘Survive.’

He only wished she’d never told him that.

If he’d died in the Games, at least they’d be living on still.

Smashing the mirror was an afterthought, which he carefully spun to look like an accident.

The sting of the glass shards on his hands was nearly as refreshing as the salty mist he could taste when he passed through District Four on a visit three times a year.

He was attending a party at the President’s house that night, on the eve of the New Year, and he for once didn’t have a pre-assigned mark.

Selfishly he hoped it was a woman, as the last time he’d brought a man home, the next morning his Prep team had been a giggling mess, and asked far too many questions than could have been appropriate.

Although he was only nineteen, he felt much older.

He looked it as well.

The trauma of the Games and the damage it had wreaked on him surely had cost him a few years of his youth.

There wasn’t a sign of silver or grey in his bronze colored hair, but the tiniest wrinkles were deepening around his eyes every year the mask grew heavier and harder to wear.

Smiling began to feel like a burden.

When he arrived at the mansion, the first thing he did was thank the driver, and then head inside, making a beeline for the bar.

In the short time he’d been playing the perfect Victor, the Capitol Darling, he’d learned a few things.

Most importantly, that money wasn’t nearly as satisfying a payment as something dear, dark, and dangerous like a person’s secrets.

He was already wealthy beyond his needs, so he’d changed up the rules.

It wasn’t something Snow could argue against, after all, now a night with Finnick Odair cost nothing but a few words.

Finnick was so used to words.

But even words have power.

*

She was wearing pink.

But not a gaudy shade.

It was soft, like the petal of a flower.

Finnick wrinkled his nose.

Flowers only reminded him of roses, which were only associated with Snow.

But the girl was delicate in appearance, with flowing blonde waves and blue eyes that shimmered under the flashing lights.

Finnick knew better.

She could just as easily be a deadly killer like him, hidden under layers of pretty fabric and heavy makeup.

She wasn’t though.

She had just enough cosmetics on to enhance her eyes and lips and a dash of sparkle on her bare shoulders and down her chest, vanishing into the hint of cleavage on her dress.

She was a walking conundrum.

If she was here, she was a member of the Capitol.

She only had the amount of finery like she’d dipped her toe in the pool.

“Hello.”

He couldn’t stop himself.

She looked up from where she’d been staring at the floor, perhaps studying the pattern of the marble tile.

Why was she by herself?

The room was filled with eligible men and women and yet…

He was alone too.

“Hello.”

She echoed, her voice a breathy sigh.

Practiced?

“All alone at a Capitol party, I knew people feared beauty but for you I’d make an exception.”

The lines came to him with such ease now, after so many months and years.

If he wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of a pink blush on her cheeks.

She really was quite stunning, and if he hadn’t been who he was, he might have actually been intimidated by her.

"People fear beauty? Oh dear. What am I doing right?"

Her hands were wringing together in front of her dress, and he found himself flashing back to just before the party, when he’d been clinging to the dressing table as if it was an anchor in a hurricane.

He knew exactly what she was thinking.

He endeavored to ease her nerves.

"You’re doing something right because I’m with you."

The ease at which his smile slide into place would have been disturbing if he thought about it for too long.

Seduction, allurement, and the trap was set.

His eyes followed her as she came to stand closer to him, leaning against the bar, but not engaging with the black and white clad bartenders behind it.

"Not a drinker tonight?"

He downed the rest of his own glass, and tapped it gently, ordering a second without a word.

She shook her head, displacing a precisely curved wave, making it fall over her shoulder and almost covering her face,

"Nope. I prefer to keep my wits about me at these things."

Finnick tried to hide his surprise.

It wasn’t often he met someone around his age who wasn’t a heavy drinker in the Capitol.

Dulling the pain was only one thing it was good for.

"There’s plenty of time for that in the daytime. What’s the fun of a Capitol party if you don’t…" he leaned in to her, catching the scent of her perfume, sweet and cloying, like vanilla, as if he was telling her a secret, "Indulge once and a while?"

He saw she was blushing now, he was sure of it, due to his closeness.

"Well, I suppose I could. How do you like to indulge?"

Finnick smiled at her before shaking his head slightly, his face still close to hers.

“That’s a secret I couldn’t _possibly_ say out loud.”

He finally leaned back slightly,

“Why don’t you tell me what you like to do?”

She grinned slightly, and he pretended it made him feel flustered, by taking an exaggerated sip of his drink, and brushing a hand down his suit, banishing imaginary lint.

"Well aren’t you an _utter tease_ … I like to talk to men like you, at parties like this. But most of all, I like to waltz.”

She waved a hand about, before reaching for his glass, preparing to steal his drink, or something.

Finnick let her though.

He watched as she took a dainty sip, and set it aside, bringing her full attention back to him.

She thought she was good, and maybe, if he’d been just another citizen, she would be.

"Enough talk though…Dance with me? Then tell me all your wicked secrets so no one can hear."

Finnick stepped in close, bringing his entire body into her personal space,

 “I thought you didn’t like to drink at these things?” He said with a smirk and an eye on his drink.

She shrugged,

“Yours is pretty good. I had to know what someone like you prefered.”

Finnick’s eyes scanned her face before looking around the room, a smile still present on his face before shaking his head.

“I don’t dance normally but…” He drew it out, and pretended to give in with a sigh, “I’ll dance with you if you can tell me the biggest secret you’ve ever had to keep.”

He brought his hand up, and smirked at her, “Do we have a deal?”

"Oh I wasn’t going to drink all of it, I promise. I was merely hoping you could use both hands."

The girl looked thoughtful before continuing,

"My biggest secret? That would be the fact I only escaped being reaped because I was poisoned the night before."

Finnick felt his eyes widen in surprise before he could stop himself, and he gently squeezed the hand she’d placed in his.

“I’m sorry. I had no idea you were someone who’d been touched by the Games, even if by a bit.”

Her blue eyes flashed, with something like anger or annoyance,

“No one ever thinks that. But before you ask, no. I don’t know who did it. But if I did, I’m not sure whether I would hit them or thank them. No one from my district survived that Game."

Finnick scanned her face before nodding, and guiding her out to the dance floor, amongst the writhing and shifting bodies.

“And what district is that?”

The secret wasn’t something he could really use, and without a name, it was almost useless.

But it was still something.

He pulled her close, feeling her exhale sharply, and he smiled down at her, much more gently than his usual mask,

“I’ll drink to that tonight, when I’m back alone at my apartment. Because without that, you wouldn’t be here with me,” he spoke so softly he knew only she could hear that.

“You live alone? How is that possible?”

He had begun to dance them around the floor, as best he could through the crowd, and shrugged slightly,

“Usually the company I keep leaves me. I’m not much one for lingering goodbyes.”

There was no way she could sense the frost in his tone, but even so, he felt her shiver in his arms.

She spoke, and he realized it wasn’t even in reaction to his words.

"I’m thinking now of how jealous I’m making the other ladies. I suppose I’d better be careful what I drink for the rest of the evening."

Her lilting tone suggested she was joking, but he saw something in her eyes that told the truth.

Finnick looked around at the different people and saw the looks people were giving them.

“I don’t care what they think. Tonight, you’re the one I’ve chosen. Besides, I think they’re looking at you because they want you. You don’t need to try to look so beautiful.”

As they danced he noticed a couple of women mingling with the crowd that he’d been with before and nodded before looking back at the girl in his arms, and smiling.

It was an easy line, but she seemed to relax slightly from it.

"You are quite the charmer. Very kind of you to say. If only it were as easy as not trying. Some days I feel like this face is all that keeps me going."

The girl sighed, and smiled back, but Finnick saw it didn’t reach her eyes.

"It’s tiring, this whole spiel. I’m sure you know  _exactly_ what I’m saying…”

Finnick looked at her, wondering for just a moment, if she was in the same boat as him, but he knew she wasn’t, she couldn’t be.

He’d never seen her before in his life, and usually the others would be obvious, singling out their conquests or assignments and never leaving their side for the rest of the night.

Years had passed and other Victors like him had come and gone.

Some had been good and proper, followed the rules, and been rewarded.

Others had been rough, and stupid, and never seen again.

Finnick knew he wasn’t the only one there tonight, just the most beloved.

 

The ones he knew were mostly men with the occasional female victor thrown in, but this girl, she wasn’t one of them.

Still, there was a part to be played.

He shook his head, and leaned in to whisper to her, dropping his voice low,

“Tiring? I live for the Capitol parties. Beautiful women like you, free alcohol, and music. Why would anyone not want this?”

He laughed a little before pulling back and staring at her face.

"Parties yes. I think the best thing about them is the music. Silence is the enemy, because it leaves you alone with your thoughts, memories. Things like that. If you ever want to get away, I know a great place."

"A secret hideout?"

Ruse or not, he was intrigued, and just a little bit tired of the party, although he’d never admit it.

That was why he hated dancing.

It was so much work, and had an almost pointless payoff.

He’d rather run five miles.

The woman amused him though.

“You’re just _full_ of secrets aren’t you?”

He looked down at her, his green eyes scanning her face before his grin grew wider,

“I like that in a woman.”

"It seems that secrets are all that get your true attention." She smirked and caught his stare, returning it effortlessly. It wasn’t exactly a hardship to look at her.

Finnick laughed, amused at how close she’d come to guessing his own secret.

“No but they always have interesting stories and stories always tell you more about the person than anything else”.

The music hit a lull, and they paused,

“Shall we go somewhere quieter?”

She asked, and he nodded.

“I’d be delighted. But first, tell me your name.”

She blushed again, looking down at their feet, and then spoke.

“I’m Aurora. Aurora Crowne. I apologize for not introducing myself sooner. I just got swept away in it all, I guess.”

Finnick felt a bit of a memory stir at the name.

He knew it somehow.

He knew her.

But how?

“Where would you like to go? I’ll accompany you anywhere.”

At that point, he was committed to no one, as he’d not been approached or nudged by anyone.

She was probably his mark, but she was playing the innocent.

He could do that.

“There’s a place I know. It’s not far. It’s behind my home.”

Finnick tried to hide his surprise.

She lived in the Capitol. Of course.

“Well, lead the way Aurora.”

Her name was nearly as pretty as she was.

Her hand in his was surprisingly warm, and he allowed her to pull him through the crowd and out the doors, past the loud streets and down a narrow walkway, until they arrived in front of a rather plain looking home, colored a dreamy tan.

“This is it.”

She turned back to look at him, as if awaiting his approval.

But he wasn’t about to pretend he wasn’t shocked at the color.

“I would have expected it to be pink.”

He smirked at her, and she laughed, dropping his hand gently.

“Not quite my style. I’m a fan of things understated.”

She pulled a key from her pocket and opened the door, before taking his hand again.

He liked the way this was going.

It was easy to pretend they were just a couple of kids escaping the madness of a party to go find a room and seek solace in each other.

The house itself was dark, but there was a twinkling light emanating from the back.

The cool night air seemed to be almost of a different world out back, below the starry sky. With small fountains bubbling around clusters of exotic blooms, Finnick could almost pretend he was somewhere else.

Perhaps that was why Aurora considered her garden her secret. Her secret escape, safe haven. Somewhere she felt truly at home, and at ease.

She looked back at Finnick and seemed to be watching him with caution,

"What do you think?"

Finnick sat down, and looked, really looked at the garden in silent awe with a small grin still glued to his face before looking over at her.

“It’s different,”

He said finally. His head tilted as he studied her, and he pressed his lips together, before his eyes scanned the place again.

Aurora stepped around the fountain and eyed him,

"Different? Okay. I’ll take that. I designed it myself. No capital money spent on fluff here. I’ll admit I may have relied on capitol funds to create it."

Finnick looked up at her, the glow from the light in the fountain illuminating her face. Never had he seen anything that looked so otherworldly until that moment.

“Who are you?” He asked finally, his voice a hushed whisper, as he was skeptical of whose company he was in for the first time in a long time.

Aurora’s brow lifted, and she continued her leisurely pace around the garden, only stopping when she reached his side again.

"That’s a loaded question. But I’m not who you think I am. Or what."

Normally at this time he would have done something dramatic, like pull her into his arms to kiss her, thus ending any sort of philosophical direction the conversation seemed to be headed in, but he was burning with curiosity.

“No really. Who are you?”

She was picking at her hair, pulling apart the perfect curls, and making her appearance more wild and less perfect.

“I’m not just another capitol darling. A failed tribute. I’m more than that. I’m not even who _I_ thought I was. And suddenly I wonder if I’m really on the right side. Of everything.”

Finnick remained silent, wary of a trap.

“I want to believe there’s something more to life than this. This trail of endless frivolity. While the districts live in poverty, we waste all that they give us.”

He spoke finally, but only to parrot the words he knew he should say,

“Well aren’t you a bleeding heart, someone in the Capitol that cares about the Districts. That’s really nice. But I’m afraid you haven’t really told me anything about yourself.”

Aurora hugged herself tightly, and Finnick couldn’t help but notice how the movement pushed her breasts up closer to the edge of her dress, he was only human.

“Don’t you wonder how? No one wastes their time visiting the districts…unless they’re on a diplomatic mission."

 A smirk twisted her mouth, and she laughed, but it had no mirth, it sounded hollow, like the President’s laugh.

Finnick felt the same blood chilling that he always did in _that_ man’s presence.

She went on, and confirmed his suspicions,

"I’m not just someone in the capitol. I’m the President’s best kept secret. That poison? The thing that rescued me from the Games? It was meant for him. Not the first time someone attempted that either. Finnick, I know about the districts because I grew up out there. I wasn’t raised in the wealth of the capitol. I’m not a bleeding heart. I’m one of them. My entire life is a lie. A well crafted lie.”

Finnick shook his head,

“It’s not a lie. You’re just well adjusted to the life here. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I didn’t come from riches. No Victor does, unless they’re from District 1.”

Aurora sighed,

“It’s not the riches I care about. It’s the name. I’m the President’s niece. I’m not willing to change my name, because I don’t want to be a target.”

Finnick’s knees rarely grew weak, but he found himself fumbling to sit down on the edge of the fountain before he fell down.

“Why would you be a target? Who would dare wish to harm you?”

He was being utterly factious.

If he’d had the chance that day, five years back, he would have driven his trident through Snow’s heart.

The way she looked over at him was incredibly telling.

When she reached for him, it took every ounce of his considerable strength not to flinch away.

“You don’t have to pretend with me. I know what you are, Finnick Odair.”

Instead of curiosity burning through him, it was now anger.

“Do you? And what do you think you are doing? Saving me?”

She shook her head, wisps of blonde fluttering in the gentle night air,

“No. But I could give you something real, if even for one night. You said you don’t like lingering goodbyes, well, I don’t say goodbye. I just leave.”

Her touch was gentle, and like butterfly wings, it was there then gone.

She was standing before him, clearly ready to do just as she said, leave.

“Can I trust you?”

With what, he didn’t know.

Not his heart.

Not his life.

But maybe, just maybe, for the night, she could have his body.

“You know all my secrets now Finnick Odair. I think it’s only fair.”

Her sad smile had to go.

He leapt to his feet and pulled her back to him, bringing her flush to his body, and kissing her fiercely.

She didn’t taste like he expected, all sweetness and light, she burned with a fire to match him, as if she had sipped cinnamon tea laced with whiskey.

He gathered a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back to begin nipping at her neck, and her gasps breathed life into him.

He’d not had an encounter that he had been in control of in so long.

Somehow in the midst of their frantic kissing and mindless groping, they ended up back inside her house.

There were several bedrooms downstairs, otherwise the idea of climbing stairs would have been a distraction.

The night followed like most others, except somewhere in the middle of things, Finnick could have sworn he heard a name not matching his fall from Aurora’s lips.

He didn’t care.

Most times he was only serving as a replacement or stand in for his companions.

Her smile was warm and her kisses enjoyable.

Overall, he would say he’d be glad to see her again, without money or secrets, but that was a dangerous thing to admit.

When morning dawned, he picked up his clothing and left without a word, just as she’d asked.

*

The next time he went to a party at Snow’s he looked for her.

She never appeared.

He asked around.

“Niece? The President has a niece?”

She really was a good secret, he supposed.

Eventually he broke down and went to visit her home.

Knocking on the door, standing on the stoop, he felt like a fool.

When the door swung inward and she appeared everything fell away.

“Aurora.”

He breathed her name like a sigh of relief.

But things were different.

Her cheekbones were sharp, and her eyes looked haunted.

“Finnick.”

She sounded like a deflated tire.

“Can I come in?”

Her unpainted lips twisted into a smile,

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“I shouldn’t even be speaking to you.”

He glanced around the streets and saw nothing, but clearly she was on edge.

“Okay.”

“Goodbye Finnick.”

In that moment he knew it was really over.

She’d just broken her one rule.

Never say goodbye.

 

There weren’t regular newspapers delivered to Finnick’s apartment, but when the thump sounded early one morning he went to investigate.

It was front page news, naturally.

Aurora’s obituary photo was beautiful.

The lines that were inked below it were all lies.

He could imagine how she’d done it.

But he didn’t want to.

All he hoped was that she was at peace.

After that moment, he was determined to continue on.

If not for her, then to spite her.

He was not going to allow his feelings to ever get in the way of his work, or his semblance of a life again.

 

Until Annie Cresta blew into his life like a hurricane.

*

Two more years of living as Snow’s puppet later, he found himself mentoring a timid brunette with sea green eyes just like his.

It didn’t take long for him to realize she was enamored with him.

 Five days into mentoring her he decided he was actually going to miss her.

But when she emerged victorious from the Games, although much changed, Finnick knew something was different.

She crept up on him.

Eventually she was the first face he saw before he fell asleep, and the first thing he thought of when he woke up.

The Quarter Quell was announced three years later, and he felt fear for the first time in his life since winning the Games.

His last family member.

The couch back he held onto to keep from falling over was going to have handprints.

Tears burned their way down his cheeks as he watched her volunteer for Annie on the screen.

The next thing he knew, he was throwing things at the plasma just to make it stop.

He was going back into the arena, but at least she was safe.

Facing previous Victor’s didn’t matter.

As long as she was safe.

*

 

 

 


End file.
